


Hobn Sich a Lebedik Bisl Nitl

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Bits and Bats and Bobs [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, happy holidays!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Newlywed Martha Wayne hosts her first Christmas party at Wayne manor. For a Jewish girl, she doesn't do half bad.
Relationships: Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne
Series: Bits and Bats and Bobs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/899253
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Hobn Sich a Lebedik Bisl Nitl

**Author's Note:**

> Hobn Sich a Lebedik Bisl Nitl is loosely translated Yiddish for "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

“It’s our turn.” 

Martha’s eyes nearly fall out of her head as she follows her husband down the front staircase towards the front entrance of Wayne Manor. 

She’s used to big houses, sure, but Wayne Manor is the grandpappy of big houses. The Coup de Gras. 

The big cheese. 

“Our turn?” she echoes. “You never said anything about it being our turn. Was this in the prenup? I should have read the prenup more closely.” 

Thomas chuckles softly and turns to her, holding her arms gently. “Marti.” 

“I don’t know if you noticed,” she tells him, biting her lip. “But I’ve never actually celebrated Christmas.” 

“We did Christmas at my uncle’s house last year,” Thomas reminds her. 

“I was mostly focused on the roast,” she admits. “It was a good roast.” 

“Marti.” 

“I know nothing about hosting a Christmas party,” she admits. “I didn’t even know that wreaths were made of actual tree until we started dating.” 

“Alfred will help.” 

“He better, because the last time I made latkes for a house full of people, I burned them and my mother nearly gave me a black eye.” 

His smile falls and her rubs her arms. “Nothing like that will happen this year.” 

“What do you feed people on Christmas?” Martha asks, changing the subject. 

“How about a ham?” Thomas asks, pulling his coat on. 

“How about not a ham,” Martha responds quickly.

Thomas smiles at her. “I love you. I know that this isn’t quite in your wheelhouse, but you’re gonna do great. I have the utmost confidence in you.” 

“Well, at least one of us does,” she comments, letting him kiss her briefly. “Have a good day at the office. Save lives.” 

“I’m on it!” 

She watches him go and sighs heavily, looking around the cavernous front hall. “Oy gevalt.” 

***** 

“Of course I’ll help you, Madam,” Alfred smiles kindly. 

“Oh, thank god,” Martha breathes out as she watches him make lunch. “I don’t really know what Christmas is supposed to look like and Thomas says he thinks I’ll do fine, but if we’re inviting who I think we’re inviting, which is every other rich person in town, then they’re going to be expecting me to fail, and I really, really do not want to fail.” 

Alfred nods in understanding, patting her hand gently. “We will not fail, Madam. This will be a classic, lovely Christmas party.” 

“Have you ever planned a Christmas party before, Alfred?” 

“Not once.” 

“Perfect.” 

***** 

“I have a very important question for you.” 

Thomas laughs a little as his wife settles in his lap, distracting him from the paperwork in front of him on the desk. “Oh?” He can’t help himself. He drops his pen and rubs her knee gently.

“Yes,” Martha smiles. “How does one go about buying a Christmas tree?” 

Thomas’ smile falls. “Uh.” 

“What did you do as a kid?” she asks. 

“Mother sent her personal shopper,” Thomas admits.

Martha freezes, her mouth falling open. 

He lifts a finger, pointing at her. “You don’t need a personal shopper.” 

“I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” she tells him. “I can’t just go to a random tree lot and get a tiny tree. This place is enormous. We need a big tree.” 

“There are farms and lots who sell big trees, Honey,” Thomas reassures her. 

“You get the tree.” 

“I can’t. I have to work.” 

“There’s gotta be one patient who’s a terrible person that nobody would miss if you skipped out on heart surgery and came with me to get a tree,” Martha jokes. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Thomas says, laughing. “I’ve got the night shift tomorrow. We’ll go tomorrow morning and look at trees, and we’ll have the one we pick delivered.” 

“And then what?” 

“What?” 

“It doesn’t just magically get set up,” Martha points out, and then gasps playfully. “Or does it?” She smiles at him widely. 

“The delivery men can set it up for us,” Thomas laughs again. “You and Alfred direct them where to set it up and they’ll make it happen.” 

“Rich people magic,” Martha jokes. 

He shakes his head and kisses her cheek.

***** 

She recoils after one sip. “Oh. Oh my god. Alfred, what is that?” 

“Eggnog, Madam.” 

“That’s eggnog?” 

“Yes.” 

“That.” 

“Yes.” 

“We can’t serve this, it’s like poison,” Martha marvels. 

Alfred tries hard no to laugh at her horrified face as he gently takes her half-filled cup and pours it out. “Well, you did buy it in a carton, Madam. Why don’t I make some from scratch?” 

“You can do that?” 

He does his best to keep his composure still, as she looks mystified. “Yes, I can, indeed.” 

“What’s in it?” 

Alfred takes a breath and looks up in thought. “Milk...cream...egg yolks...nutmeg, bourbon...” 

Martha’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “Did you say bourbon?” 

“I did, Madam.” 

“Now you’re talking my language.” 

***** .

“That is a big tree,” 

Thomas laughs as the delivery men set it up in the sitting room off of the front hall. “You wanted a big tree.” 

“I think maybe my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” Martha tells him. 

“We spent three hours looking at trees,” Thomas complains. “We could have stayed in bed for three hours. I could have had you naked for another three hours.” 

She laughs and whaps him in the arm. “Stop that, Alfred will hear you.” 

“He’s heard worse,” Thomas comments, stepping around the tree, checking it out. 

“How are we gonna get the star on the top?” Martha asks, following him around. 

“With a ladder,” Thomas tells her. 

“In these heels?” Martha asks, her eyes widening. 

“I’ll put the star on,” he promises, wrapping his arm around her. “Not bad for a beginner. It’s a great tree.” 

She smiles halfheartedly at him, cuddling into his side. “Just promise it’s not gonna light on fire.” 

“It’s not,” Thomas tells her. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

***** 

“Hi, Mama.” 

“Hello, Martha. Are you well?” 

‘Yes, Mama, we’re fine.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Mama, I was wondering...I have a question.” 

“Well, spit it out, then.” 

She takes a deep breath and looks up at Thomas, who gives her an encouraging nod. She steals herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she speaks into the telephone that sits on the ornate vanity in their bedroom. “Mama, I was wondering if maybe I could have Zayda’s menorah for-” 

“Absolutely not!” Betsy Kane snaps. 

“But Mama-” 

“You no longer live in a Jewish household, Martha,” Betsy tells her. “Which means you are not entitled to any of this family’s religious heirlooms, and that’s final.” 

Martha sits up as straight as possible, staying silent. 

“Do you understand me, Martha Ruth?” 

“Yes,” Martha says softly. “I understand. Goodbye, Mama.” 

She hangs up slowly, and sits back, rubbing her temple.

“I know that temple rub,” Thomas says softly. “That’s your ‘somebody get me a god-damn drink’ temple rub.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” Martha smirks sadly. 

“Why don’t I make you a martini?” he offers. “And then we can forget about the holidays for tonight.” 

“How about forever?” 

***** 

“It’s a nice tree.” 

Martha smiles a little at her brother, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Thanks, baby brother.” 

“Mama will come around,” Jacob promises. “She’s just...y’know. She’s sore about it.” 

“Which is crazy.”

“You had a catholic wedding,” Jacob points out. 

“We asked the rabbi to come up and bless the marriage!” Martha cries, stepping away. “Thomas even stomped the glass. I don’t know what she wants from me.” 

“To go back in time and marry a nice Jewish boy.” 

Martha groans. 

“And if she can’t have that then she doesn’t want you at all,” Jacob finishes. “It doesn’t have to make sense. It’s Mama. Nothing ever makes sense with Mama.” 

“I just...Zayda was important to me,” Martha sighs. “That menorah is important to me. She hasn’t looked at that thing in twenty years. It sits in a cabinet and collects dust. I want to use it. He would have wanted me to use it.” 

“He’s dead. Mama’s alive.”

“More’s the pity.” 

“Hey, now.” 

“She’s an old witch.” 

“But she’s our old witch.” 

“Fine. Take her side.” 

“I’m not taking sides,” Jacob laughs. “Marti, Mama isn’t going to give. The best thing you can do is to get yourself a new menorah. Start your own tradition. Make your own way. You’re better off.” 

“Says the boy still living at home.” 

“Not for long.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’m joining the army.” 

Martha stares at him in shock. 

Jacob grins and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you at your Christmas party. I’ll even where a santa-themed yarmulke just for you.” 

***** 

“Okay!” Martha cries as she helps Alfred and Thomas decorate the tree late, late one night after Thomas comes home from a shift at the hospital. He’s still wearing his scrubs, but he’s still bright-eyed and awake, standing on a ladder, star in hand. 

“So for dinner, we’re serving goose, with candied oranges and cranberries. There’s gonna be mashed potatoes with gravy, and honey-glazed carrots, and for dessert, Alfred is making sticky toffee pudding, rum balls, and a yule log.” 

“And a fruitcake,” Thomas adds. 

“No,” Martha argues. “No. No one is making a fruitcake.” 

Alfred sighs as he decorates the tree tastefully with tinsel. “It’s a very small fruitcake, Madam. And it’s for Master Thomas.” 

Martha turns a horrified look on her husband. “You...you like fruitcake?” 

“No,” Thomas smirks. “I love fruitcake.” 

“You are a fruitcake,” Martha accuses. 

“And you married me.” 

“Clearly part of some goyish plot to destroy my life. With fruitcake.” She huffs and keeps reading from her list. “We’ll have eggnog- Alfred’s eggnog with the booze in it - champagne, hot cider, hot chocolate and I’m sure some of your friends will want plain whiskey, Thomas.” 

“They may just spike their cider. You never know.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

***** 

By the morning of the party, the Manor is decorated beautifully. The tree glistens with lights and tinsel and baubles. Alfred put Christmas lights up along the front walk, and garland wraps its way around staircases and around a couple of doorways.

Thomas leaves early in the morning, letting Martha sleep in. She’s been so incredibly stressed about all of this, that she’s earned it. He hadn’t realized just how much something like this would throw her for a loop. He’s seen her plan parties before, but they’d all been for charity, with silly themes or activities. 

The holidays were different. He should have realized. 

“Just a stupid party boy, that’s me,” he mutters. 

“You’re not so bad.” 

Thomas jerks and nearly hits the breaks, but keeps driving. “JOHN!” 

John Zatara chuckles. “Hello, Tommy. Nice morning for a drive, where are you headed?” 

Thomas huffs out a laugh. “You’re lucky I was alone. Martha would have killed you for that trick.” 

John smirks. “Then I’d have died happy to be murdered by such a beautiful woman.” 

“Stop making eyes at my wife.” 

“Never,” John says. “Where are you going?” 

“There’s a shop in the Village. I need to pick something up.” 

John quirks an eyebrow and buckles his seat belt. “That's a Jewish neighborhood.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“They’re gonna look at you very funny, Tommy. Especially because it’s Christmas Eve, and you are one hundred percent goy.” 

“Well, now you’re here, they won’t look at me as funnily,” Thomas smirks. “Because you’re anything but.” 

John laughs and points to the road. “Drive on!” 

***** 

Martha sighs softly as she watches the extra staff they’ve hired bustle around the house, getting things ready. The planning is done, and all the prep work she had done is finished. Now it’s time to let this party work itself out. 

Which is not exactly good for her stress levels, but there isn’t much she can do except watch and answer questions until it’s time to get ready. She’d placed gifts under the tree the night before.

“Alfred, I thought Thomas had the day off from the hospital,” she says as she steps into the kitchen, finding Alfred directing the chaos within. “Did he say what time he’d be home?” 

“He did not, Madam,” Alfred tells her. “But I’m certain he won’t be too long.” 

“You always say that,” Martha grins, before taking a deep breath. “Okay. I...am going to have a glass of wine, and I’m going to go upstairs and take a long, hot bath before this all gets started. You’ve got this covered?” 

“Indeed.” 

She smiles and steps back out, heading towards the staircase when she hears the front doors open and close. 

When she turns, it’s to find Thomas and John standing there, shedding their coats. 

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Martha smirks, stepping over and kissing John’s cheek. 

“Yes, I’ve picked up a stray,” Thomas jokes. “I had to run an errand. Sorry to leave you in all the prep chaos, Marti.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” she says curiously. “I thought you’d gone to the hospital.” 

Thomas grins and takes her hand. “Let’s go sit down. I have a gift for you.” 

“But it’s not Christmas day yet.” 

“No, but Hanukkah was last week,” Thomas points out. “And we didn’t do very much.” 

Martha looks back at John, who wiggles his fingers at her, and then looks at Thomas. “I didn’t want to do much.” 

“I know,” Thomas says gently as they step into the sitting room, where the tree’s lights glow merrily. 

They sit down and Martha frowns at him. “What’s going on?” 

Thomas grins and hands her a box wrapped in deep blue paper. 

“I’m supposed to open this now?” Martha asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Not later.” 

“No.” 

Martha smiles at him and shakes her head. “Okay.” Carefully, she unwraps the paper, setting it aside and lifting the lid off of the box. 

Inside is an ornate, silver menorah, carved into the shape of a tree, with little silver flowers and leaves adorning it. It’s not terribly large, but the detail is immaculate; the stem of the menorah snares out like tree roots. 

“Oh...Thomas...this is…” she looks at him, smiling but confused. 

“I know you wanted your grandfather’s menorah,” Thomas says gently. “But I thought...maybe if you had your own...so I went down to the Village. I heard about a rabbi who makes his own menorahs...he had this one and it made me think of you.” 

Martha gazes at it and sniffles. “Oh. I’m so glad I’ve been putting off getting ready for this party. I’d hate to wreck my makeup.” 

Thomas smiles. “I know it’s a little late, but I had hoped your mother would come around before Hanukkah ended, but when she didn’t, I-” 

He gets cut off by a long kiss, and Martha wraps her arms around him tightly. 

When it ends, she smiles against his lips. 

Thomas sighs and pecks her lips gently. “You said something about a bath. I was thinking maybe you needed somebody to wash your back.” 

“I volunteer!” John’s voice calls.

Martha laughs against Thomas’ neck.

***** 

The party is a hit. Martha spends most of her night with Leslie Thompkins as they make the rounds together, chatting with the other party guests. 

Apple and Bunny Abbott, sisters who vied for Thomas’ favor for years, mill about the party looking wide-eyed and shocked at how festive and classy everything looks. 

“You pulled it off,” Leslie grins at her. “Well done, Marti.” 

“Why thank you, I can only take part of the credit,” she tells her. “Part of it goes to Alfred, and a large chunk goes to my constant anxiety.” 

They laugh and clink their glasses of champagne together in cheers.

“So which Abbott sister do you think will try to suffocate Thomas under the mistletoe tonight?” Martha asks jokingly. 

“My money’s on Bunny,” Leslie laughs. 

“Oh yeah. Bunny is definitely the rabblerouser.” 

Leslie grins at her, taking her hand. “I know that the holidays can be hard. And this must have been strange for you. Are you okay?” 

Martha takes a breath and looks around. She spots her husband and his doctor friends joking around her with little brother. She spots Gotham’s ultra-rich in a corner, sipping hot cider by the fire, looking relaxed and festive. John is doing putting on a magic show for some of the children, and even more of the single girls at the party, and Alfred stands by the door, watching over them all with his head up. 

He catches her eye, and they share a grin.

They’ve pulled it off. 

For a moment, Martha imagines what it would be like if the doorbell rang and her parents stepped in. 

But that won’t happen. 

And that’s okay. At least for tonight. 

For now, she smiles at Leslie. 

“Y’know what? I’m great. Maybe I’ll host every year. Oh! Maybe we can turn this into a charity event for the clinic. Or for some of the orphanages. Or for the shelters. Or all of them.” 

Leslie shakes her head at her friend. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.” 

Martha smiles and sips more champagne, nodding to herself. “Tomorrow.” 

END


End file.
